


Mission Classified

by cyberneticnightmare



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Coffee, Couch Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Female Reader, Humor, Missionary Position, Multi, Office Sex, One Night Stands, Open Relationships, Or Is It?, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Reader is Stone's second in command., Riding, Stobotnik, Vaginal Sex, is also there i swear., kind of? Robotnik just interrupts via holoscreen.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberneticnightmare/pseuds/cyberneticnightmare
Summary: Rumors abound about the true nature of Agent Stone's and Dr. Robotnik's relationship, and you are just as intrigued but know better than to ask questions. To your surprise, it is Agent Stone who prompts you to ask for his clarification on the subject while in the most compromising of positions-- but at least you are getting rewarded for a classified job done with the utmost discretion.
Relationships: Agent Stone (Sonic the Hedgehog 2020)/Reader, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Mission Classified

**Author's Note:**

> No, I had no excuse other than "agent stone is hot". This is for all you horndogs out there who deserve some Stone/Reader content.

If there is one thing you know for certain, it’s that the whole system is rigged. You don’t have the clearance to snoop and see how badly, but you can definitely pick up on something not-right when it comes to the selection of new recruits.

First, the government plucks the most elite out of Quantico and brings them to a top-security base at an undisclosed location. Second, a written test is administered and scores that are either too high or too low are sent packing back to Virginia. Third, pre-inductees are subjected to a psych-eval, a theoretical one, before being made to stand in a line and face a mortal demon scarier than any drill sergeant to grace the ranks of the United States military forces. 

This is the hard part.

Dr. Robotnik is an imposing figure, a man who doesn’t so much demand attention but consumes it voraciously like a black hole. For being an older gentleman with an oddly fitting mustache, he holds himself like someone who knows what his position is in the grand scheme of things: at the very top of the food chain, with the rest of the world below the soles of his feet. He has singlehandedly driven generals to early retirement, ridiculed high ranking officials to the point of making seasoned adults cry. 

Rumors abound when it comes to him. The most dangerous person on the planet due to his unparalleled intelligence and uncanny ability to create and communicate with machines. A force of nature. America’s most prized asset—guarded by one man and a smattering of underlings.

It is that man who takes charge of the second portion of the psych-eval.

Everyone agrees Robotnik would be a less terrifying option.

The thing about Agent Stone is that he is an average man of average height and average build. What isn’t average is his uncanny ability to stand toe to toe with an absolute stranger and ask, in the most soft-spoken voice possible, sporting the most earnest of smiles, two questions: your biggest fear, and your orders.

Answers vary wildly, and ultimately, it’s Robotnik who chooses who gets the honor to serve below Agent Stone. It is often considered an honor because, unbeknownst to the mad genius and his loyal lackey, Stone is the most lusted after individual on base, and directly working with him grants his personnel exclusive access to ogle and interact.

And, honestly, you’re no different.

The system is rigged in your favor because you still haven’t the slightest idea as to how you passed that psych-eval, and part of you dreads to acknowledge what exactly Dr. Robotnik saw worthy of keeping among his closest ranks. Of course, you don’t directly speak to that man, nobody other than Stone does, but it’s a weight that always simmers in the back of your head.

The job itself is easy. Mostly paperwork, the occasional field mission where you tag along as a buffer in case someone were to try and snipe your boss and his boss, and so on. Global surveillance has been your expertise since back in Quantico, and they waste no time in assigning you to Reconnaissance and Intelligence. Ten months in and you’re one of the few people who directly works with Stone, running reports by him and receiving authorization for more flippant profiles that don’t require urgent attention.

One such profile allows for the thwarting of a coup meant to overrun an offshore base where Robotnik was scheduled to perform various weapons tests some three months from now, much to everyone’s surprise. Including your own. The Doctor doesn’t acknowledge it, but Stone does.

A knock on your office door brings your attention away from the computer.

“Thought I’d bring you coffee as a formal ‘thank you for saving our skins’,” Stone says, flashing his pearly whites as he crosses the office and puts down the cup on your desk. It has little polar bears on it.

“What, no raise? Coffee won’t pay my rent.”

“Unemployment might, but I take it you’re a workaholic,” he says. Reaching into his suit jacket, he produces a black envelope. “Alright, how about coffee and a challenge?”

Curiosity piqued, you push away from the desk and get to your feet, walking around it to take the envelope from his hands. “What’s this?”

“Something I’m giving you partial clearance for. If you can crack it, I may be able to arrange something that better aligns with your taste.”

“I’m not a codebreaker.”

“Take it or leave it.”

You look down at the assortment of images, maps, and encryption codes. You have no idea where to begin, and you are sure Google will be of little use here. “By my taste… Do you mean the Arceus Project?”

“You do this, and I might be able to get you in with the Doctor for a whole thirty seconds.” Stone winks at you, and something in your chest jumps. “Access to the data banks has been granted, as well as our central servers.” He raps his knuckles against the desk before turning to the door. “Don’t make me regret this, Agent. I can make it worth your time.”

The suggestiveness with which he delivers that final statement leaves you nothing short of breathless.

Agent Stone’s allure largely stems from his innately flirtatious personality which he makes no active attempt to subdue. It’s likely unintentional, just an unfortunate trait that leaves a trail of broken hearts in his wake, but there is another part of you that is certain he knows exactly the type of effect he has on people and weaponizes it to his advantage. Regardless, you can appreciate a man who knows how to use his sex appeal with gusto.

Outside your office, nearly every other agent turns to you with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Care to explain how most of us have been after that tight ass for years and suddenly Boy Wonder is being sweet on you?”

You blink at them. “He just… It’s just coffee.”

“Uh-huh. Artisanal coffee, prepared by his very hands rather than bought from a mainstream chain. Agent Stone only ever brings coffee for Robot Boy. And now _you_ are on the list?”

Unsure of what to make of it, you retreat to your office and closer the door behind you.

___________________________________

At the absence of a deadline, you make the project your top priority all the while seeing your daily quota is met. Back to back all-nighters leave you more than a little frazzled, but it is worth coming in every morning to spot a steaming cup of the world’s sweetest coffee waiting for you on your desk.

You are forced to miss out on the usual get-togethers with your colleagues, which in turn puts more strain on the casualness of the work environment until you are given the cold shoulder. It is juvenile, getting shafted because the object of their horny little fantasies is keeping tabs with his agent for strictly work reasons. Juvenile and stupid.

But it doesn’t matter, not when you get the information you need on the fifth night.

Six hours, and you have sorted out a full report.

Two hours before you are due to clock in, you are strutting across the base and into the office building with an armored suitcase in hand. The premise of the file inside is still lost on you, nooks and corners concealed for security reasons, but it was of little consequence on your mission to decode and organize the entirety of the file. It was almost too easy once you caught onto the ins and outs of what you were doing, and you are certainly not an idiot. This is a test, either one of brains or one of loyalty.

The building is desolate at the early hour and you know for certain you would find Robotnik already toiling away at the lab across base, and while curiosity nags to see what he would do were you to come knocking, you are not looking to get your ass fired on the spot. Not today. Not when you are so close to getting on the notoriously classified ghost project that is Arceus.

The building is desolate save for one other person.

The clip of your shoes must announce your presence, because as you enter your office Agent Stone is already pushing up to his feet from where he was sitting in your chair behind your desk. There is a brief pause, one rife with tension as you nearly demand some answer as to what he is doing and why, and the charming smile he tries to assuage you with only lights the fire of affront.

“You’re here early,” you say, standing at the door as if you could possibly keep him from leaving if he so chose to. “The cafeteria isn’t even open yet.”

Stone hovers, hands in his pockets as his eyes drift down to the suitcase in your hand. “Figured I’d get some work done before greeting the doctor.”

“At _my_ office?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” he says with a wink more dangerous than any weapon of mass destruction. The ease with which he disarms is terrifying. You wonder if Robotnik has ever been on its receiving end. “You cracked it, didn’t you?”

“You said you’d make it worth my time.”

“I _am_ here, in _your_ office. Which Doctor Robotnik owns but… it’s all just a matter of semantics. I have your new access badge right here,” he says, patting his suit jacket, “in repayment for a job well done. We do appreciate your discretion.”

Warily looking away from him, you deposit the suitcase onto your desk and open it, sifting through the multiple folders you have organized by both date and location. “Redacted information is that which you chose to omit from me, obviously. There’s a key on the last file which will give you remote access to my personal hard drive in case you want my trail deleted.”

Stone takes the first of the folders and flips through it without paying close attention to its contents, humming thoughtfully to himself before placing it back in the suitcase and clicking it shut. “Already taken care of.” From inside his jacket he produces a keycard, which he places on the desk and slides towards you. “Now, for your well-deserved reward.”

The keycard is jet black, leather, with an encrypted red symbol that will undoubtedly give you unlimited access to anything you want on base resting at its center. It is what you have been working towards since that very first day, the answers you have always sought since childhood.

Standing toe to toe with Stone, you place your fingertips over the keycard he seems reluctant to let go of. Your fingers brush his and the static it sparks glows at the center of your chest, and for a moment it is difficult to look at him directly. “Been a real pleasure, doing the boring work for you and your boss.”

“First projects usually are.”

“You promised me thirty seconds with him.”

“I said I would try. Nobody tells him what to do, not even me.”

“You do look the more submissive of the two,” you say, immediately wishing you had swallowed your tongue first thing this morning, especially when Stone’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, my god. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean that—I mean, I didn’t mean to comment on your relationship with—not that I’m saying there even is a relationship, not that type, and if there were it still wouldn’t be my place to—actually, I’m just going to… stop talking. Right now.” Face hot and willing the ground to swallow you whole, you try to take the keycard and promptly exit your own office, but his fingers are not budging.

“The rumor mill never sleeps, does it?”

You laugh, but it comes out sounding like an aborted snort that makes you cringe. “Not a lot of interesting things to talk about in the office… while off the clock,” you’re quick to add. “You know, can’t talk about classified projects or that kind of stuff.”

“But your superiors’ private life is fair game.”

“No, of course not. Absolutely not.” The card is nudged towards him and you inch forward with it. “No one’s exempt of the gossip.”

Stone’s dark eyes are sharp, all-knowing, and it takes a Herculean effort not to wither beneath his stare. Despite this, his index finger is idly stroking yours over the card, a barely-there touch that you just notice is making your gut flutter.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he says with a soft laugh. He lets go of the card, moving around you to unceremoniously dropping himself into the two-person couch in the far corner of the office. Crossing a leg over the other, one arm along the back of it, he is a picture of ease and workplace camaraderie.

You don’t trust it. “Bite?”

“I’m curious about what you guys say about me,” he says so matter-of-factly you wonder if he’s reading from a script. “Considering I don’t spend as much time with my colleagues as the usual person would, it feels like I’ve missed out on a lot of the basic mingling.”

“You are pretty shit at networking.” You immediately bite your tongue again. “Sorry.”

Stone shakes his head. “Don’t be. Honesty is a hard thing to come by.”

Greedily, you slip the keycard into your jacket. “Not a lot goes on around here. Pretty sure most of what is said is conjecture based on pure crap.”

The bastard casually reaches up to slightly loosen his tie, before flattening it against his shirt and looking up at you like a model ready for his cover shoot. _Or a porn star_ , your mind traitorously supplies, making you wonder if you have walked in to star in your very own casting couch porno. Stone really is devastatingly attractive, all sharp edges intermingled with soft features.

You wonder how Robotnik stands it, working with him day in and day out for countless hours, just the two of them locked in the impenetrable isolation of the laboratory. You would likely develop a serious case of blue balls because standing here, looking down at him with the door to your office wide open where anyone could walk in at any given moment, the urge to sit on his dick is powerfully overwhelming.

“Agent?”

“Barely got any sleep,” you say with a stiff laugh. “Maybe we could have this conversation over lunch? Some friendly catching up with a fellow co-worker?”

“The doctor and I usually take our lunches together,” he explains.

“Oh.” You nod your head, wanting to point out that he’s not helping his case, only to realize he hasn’t made one to begin with. He never denied your comment. “Okay.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you lean against the edge of your desk. “People are more scared of you than they are of Doc.”

Stone seems genuinely surprised. “Huh.”

“They’ll talk a lot about him but you kind of hover on the sidelines of conversations… like an omen. Workplace superstition: you talk about Agent Stone and he will appear. Personally, I’m convinced you have this place bugged to fuck which means you already know anything I could say.”

His eyes get squinty, as if to convey a sly smile that speaks volumes to how right you are and how impressed he is at your cunning. “I like hearing firsthand what people have to say about me, as well as my relationship with the doctor.”

“But you already know what’s said…” It clicks then, with a second wave of humiliating heat that Stone easily picks up on and answers to with a leering smirk. “Sometimes you say things just to fit in with the clique, you know. Especially when the boss singles you out, making them make assumptions.”

“They think I’m sleeping with you.”

“Wha— _no_ , that is not at all what I mean—”

“You, Robotnik… how sleazy do these people think I am?”

“Not sleazy at all, just that you have game.” Normally, you’re a lot more nuanced than this. “Fuck, it’s more like—alright, I’m going to stop talking now as I’ve made enough of a fool of myself and I don’t want HR called on me.”

“Do _you_ think so?”

“I… hm. I think you’re a very handsome and put-together man and that anyone would be happy to have you?” Unsure of where this whole ordeal is going, you just want him to leave so that you can hide under your desk and never crawl out again.

“Anyone?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Stone licks his lips and you stare, transfixed, before finally looking away when he gets up to his feet. “I’ve bugged you enough for one day,” he says, fixing himself up with a playful smile. “Message me what drink you’d like once I clock out tonight. Doesn’t have to be coffee.”

Leaning heavily against the desk, both hands firmly at your sides, you watch him step close to you with a knowing tilt of the head. “Is… is this appropriate, Stone?”

“You tell me.”

“Don’t want to get on Doc’s bad side for—”

“For?” Stone prompts, so close now you can feel his heat through the layers of your clothing.

“Mingling.”

“He’s my responsibility. No need to worry about him.”

“You sure about that?”

“Don’t question me, Agent,” Stone says, reaching up to fix your tie before pulling back. “If you want to meet with me after hours, you know what to do. If you don’t, guess you will never find out.”

“Find out?” But before getting anything else out of him, Stone is gone, and you’re left against your desk with wobbly knees.

___________________________________

In the end, you ask for coffee.

Stone surprises you with a caramel macchiato with a dollop of whipped cream on top, and an invitation. Nothing fancy about it an hour after everyone has gone home for the night, but still Stone draws the blinds and locks the door to your office behind him, walking you backwards to the couch where he slots between your thighs the moment you lie on your back. He wastes no time hiking up your skirt, rutting against you so that his hard bulge rubs deliciously against the thin fabric of your panties.

“Ask,” he says against your mouth, where you beg for a kiss but he denies you again and again with a lusty grin. “Go ahead.”

“Are you fucking him?” The question is out before you can think it through, your legs spread and your hands on his still clothed ass, urging him to move faster. “Are you fucking Robotnik?”

Stone’s hooded eyes drift shut for a moment, his hips snapping up with enough force to make you moan and you want him to unzip, to rub his cock against the soaked fabric. He laughs, breathing in the desperation. “Yes,” he says.

“Fuck.”

“Does knowing turn you on?”

You nod despite yourself, too horny to give a damn. “Everyone knows.”

“Oh no no,” he coos, reaching up to fondle your breast through your shirt. “None of you know how _loud_ he gets when he takes my dick bent over the lab console.” Stone sighs dreamily, depositing his weight on you, slowly rocking his hips to tease but nowhere near enough to get you both off. “He’s also really good at sucking cock, in case you wanted to know.”

“Bet you’re good at it, too,” you say, bringing up a hand to thumb at his plump lower lip. He sucks it into his mouth, keeping his eyes on yours as his tongue circles it, teeth scraping the fleshy bit before letting it go. “God, you’re hot.”

Stone hums appreciatively at the compliment. “Want to know what’s hotter?”

You watch him sit up on the couch, fishing under your rucked up skirt to hook his fingers along the edge of your panties and slowly pull them down, all the way off, to leave you exposed in the cool air of the office. You shiver at the heavy pulse his intense stare elicits in you, making you instinctively close your legs. He spreads them again, settling with his head between your thighs and you gasp. “Does he know?”

“About this?” Stone wastes no time, dropping a kiss to your wet lips before moving to tease your thighs, his beard delicious soft against your skin. “I’m sure he does. There’s nothing that man doesn’t know.”

You swallow hard, struggling to keep your legs spread when all you want is to guide him to where he needs to be. “Good to know.” That last word cuts off when a stroke of his broad tongue makes your toes curl. “Oh.” He smiles up at you, and it is game over.

Stone goes down on you like a champion, like someone who knows what the fuck they are doing for once in their life, making you wonder what is stopping everyone else from getting on his level. His touch is featherlight, applying pressure where he wants and where you need, softly parting your labia to swirl broad laps around your clit, flicking it playfully before sucking on it with audible gusto.

Your mind is gone within moments. All of you is concentrated on that single point on your body where Stone licks, nips, and sucks with muffled little sounds of delight that drift up to your ears and lend you useless on that couch. He pulls back enough to make a show out of sucking on his index finger, and you are cumming the moment he slips it inside you.

“Fucking, _Christ_. Stone… Stone!”

“I’m right here,” he says with a charming lilt in his voice, “but go ahead and be louder if you want. Tell me how good I am.”

“So fucking good.”

“The best you’ve had?”

You think only for a moment before nodding, because, honestly, you cannot think of anyone who has put this much fervor towards your pleasure. “We’re not done,” you state simply, not wanting it to get to his head just yet. Not that it matters. Stone knows just how good he is.

The finger still inside of you curls up in a beckoning motion, and his mouth twitches into a smirk at the obscene squelching the movement makes. “It’s alright.” From his back pocket, Stone takes out a matte black square foil. “I think you have, at the least, one more orgasm in you.” He rips the condom packet open with his teeth. “And we’re going to make sure it happens with that tight pussy of yours wrapped around my cock. How’s that sound?”

The moan that escapes you is nothing short of pathetic as he sucks the finger that had just been inside you before wiping it against his pants. You watch as he unzips, pulling out his cock that stands at stunning attention, slightly curved and indicative of the best time of your life. He strokes himself, guiding the bare tip to drag precum along your thighs before he pulls away to slip on the condom. A quick spit on his palm and a few more strokes, and he is lining up with you.

“Ankle on my shoulder,” he commands, and you do as you are told as he scoots further up the couch. “If you want to stop, just say so.”

“Okay.”

The initial spread and burn are enough to blank you out. The lack of proper prep barely registers, so horny out of your mind that all you want is for him to slam all the way in right from the get-go, but Stone is a _gentleman_. Stone takes it slow. He allows you to get used to his deliciously thick girth, sinking in little by little before pulling out and sinking in again.

“Good?” he asks, unfairly well-adjusted despite the smears of your juices on his lips. He guides the leg on his shoulder to wrap around his waist and you are grateful for the change, the previous position putting unnecessary pressure on everything that did not need it.

You nod. “Fuck me.”

Stone flips his tie over his shoulder, a look of concentration taking over as he bottoms out and waits, focusing on short, grinding motions that make you gasp and squirm. You want him naked; you want to experience this skin on skin instead of fully clothed, but there is something erotic about the secretive desperation of fucking on your office couch when everyone else has turned in for the night. Right now, it does not matter because he is balls deep inside of you, holding himself up and staring down at you with a look of rapt hunger.

You shiver because the man truly is beautiful, a stunning picture of perfect control, lethal calmness, and a goofy little smile when most no one is looking. The constant praise Agent Stone gets, be it due to his competence, work ethic, or obscenely good looks is well deserved, and you feel a little out of your depth being pinned underneath him. The most eligible bachelor on base, the one that generals, commanders, and even Robotnik himself are willing to drop their pants for is on top of you, and you wonder if this is some sort of elaborate fantasy.

“You know what really gets me going?” Stone says, pulling out halfway before snapping his hips forward with a drawn out groan. “Competence. Someone who can get the job done in record time and do it perfectly.”

Your thighs quiver. “Where does getting yelled at fall on that list?”

Stone sets a pace, a quick one, and you know this encounter is not meant to be a long one. “Between—” he pauses, grunts to accompany a particularly rough thrust that pushes you further up the couch, “—between noisy bottoms and thick thighs.” You moan, and it is not meant for show, but he laughs anyway. “I haven’t fucked a pussy in so long I almost forgot how good it feels.”

“Think you’ll come back for more?” You hope it does not sound as desperate to him as it does to you, but the heat in his eyes says that is exactly how it came across.

“Depends.” He quickens his pace, slamming into you without warning and your back arches off the couch, your hands scrambling and squeaking against the leather of the couch. “A job well done always—fuck—always deserves a reward.”

You raise an eyebrow despite the plowing. “You really think your dick is that good, huh?”

Stone lowers himself to rest on you and it somehow makes him hit deeper, each powerful thrust making you keen as he pants heavily against your ear, soft little hums drifting from him that make you impossibly wetter for him. “ _I want him to finger me in the backseat of the SUV, or hidden behind a desk while Walters talks about something or another_ ,” he says, repeating the words you told another agent about a month ago while discussing the blatant lack of sex that comes with the job. “Or, my favorite: _think Doc would be down for a three-way?_ ”

The mortification adds to the pleasure, your hands now on his back as you curl around him. “C’mon, Stone. Faster. Fuck me harder, baby. Make me feel it.” Because you are feeling it, and you want more. You want so much more you want him to _break_ you. “Harder!”

Stone delivers, good boy that he is. He braces a foot on the ground and uses the leverage to pound into you without mercy, chanting your name over and over again in a voice that is utterly wrecked and breathy, little moans punching out of him.

You barely register the steady beeping sound that comes from somewhere in the office, Stone abruptly pausing when it comes to his attention. He shuts his eyes with an exasperated sigh, holding a finger to your lips to keep you silent. You blink, confused and frustrated, to then shift towards bewildered and mortified when a small holographic screen pops up from Stone’s watch.

You immediately try to stop yourself from breathing altogether, but Stone seems uncaring of his own blatant display of the act he was just committing. 

“Doctor,” he says by way of greeting, chest rapidly rising and falling from exertion. “It’s late.”

_“I know that,”_ Robotnik snaps, and you can see his inverted image from where you lay on the couch. _“You said you’d send the files the moment you’d get to your car and that should have been twenty minutes ago.”_ The doctor squints. _“It’s not like you to play tourist and take ‘detours’.”_

Stone looks apologetic. “I got distracted,” and the bastard actually has the gall to thumb at your clit, still buried to the hilt as he casually converses as if he were simply filing paperwork. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll have everything sorted out for you.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, the corner of your eyes watering as you try your hardest to keep quiet despite not really wanting to. A part of you wants Robotnik to hear, to know what his top agent and right-hand man is doing to you. You wonder if the doctor would get jealous, or if he too would be willing to stuff you full. The thought of two cocks inside you makes you salivate, and the fleeting glance Stone casts you through the screen tells you he knows what you are thinking. He shifts his hips and you nearly gasp aloud.

They are conversing about something, you vaguely realize, too far gone to make sense of what is being discussed. You can pick up on the banter, the almost friendly back and forth that is wholly endearing if you weren’t feeling so guilty about having one half of the pair dicking you down. You wonder what kind of relationship they actually have, if it is a serious one or just the regular workplace rump to let off steam.

_“You have seventeen minutes to wrap up your little rendezvous and get me my file, Stone,”_ the doctor says with a sneer. _“And for all our sakes, I sincerely hope that’s not the only thing that’s been wrapped up.”_

You keep perfectly still, eyes wide as you watch Stone run a hand over his short hair through the shimmering surface of the screen. His smile is one of ease even as he winks at Robotnik. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Doctor.” And with that, the screen folds and vanishes into the lens on Stone’s watch. “Now, where was I?”

“Do you always take calls from your boss when you’re balls deep in someone?”

“Spices things up,” he says nonchalantly. “You heard the man. We’re gonna have to wrap this up in the next ten minutes if I want to keep my job.” He fingers at your clit making you squirm, smearing juices before sucking his index finger clean. “Next time I might just take my sweet time eating you out.”

“Oh, so there’s a next time.”

“If you continue to be a good girl for me.” The way Stone says it is obscene despite the way his eyes soften. “I may even be able to convince a very special guest to join.”

You perk up, propping up on your elbows to get a closer look at him. Much to your surprise, he moves with you, taking a good hold on your waist and guiding you until you are both upright on the couch with you seated comfortably astride his lap. Stone offers no quarter however, as he hikes the skirt up further, shoes firmly on the carpeted floor as he thrusts up into you while pulling you down onto him in one smooth motion.

“Fuck me—you’re good,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your foreheads together. The proximity allows for you to really inspect every wince and twitch of his face, that endless warmth of his eyes as he stares up at you with thinly veiled pleasure. You can smell his heady scent of pine and citrus, likely scented oil dabbed behind his ear to provide something softer than cologne to the senses. It is sensual, just like the rest of him, and you cannot believe how lucky you are. “Special guest?”

His hands come up to massage your tits over your blouse before undoing the top buttons, spreading it and flipping down your bra to give them a good squeeze. Stone stops moving in favor of sucking on your nipples, humming delightedly as he worries each nub with his teeth. “I felt the way you tightened on my cock the moment you saw him,” he says against your chest, moving his hands to grab your ass and move you on his lap. “Got extra wet listening to the doctor’s voice while I was still inside you.”

You bounce on him, taking him deeper. “I’d let the two of you spit roast me.”

Stone groans, grinning from ear to ear as he drops a kiss to your jaw. “You’d let me use that smart mouth of yours until you’re gagging on my cum?” He laughs, slamming into you while holding you close, his own head tipping back with a sigh. “Bent over, letting the doctor fuck that tight little hole?”

You are close, so very close and you can feel the orgasm coiling tight and hot in your gut as Stone picks up the pace, no longer measured and controlled, but a messy rhythm of taking what he can get. 

“Fuck, fuck! Come on, Stone. Is that all you got? I can barely feel your fucking cock.”

Stone grits his teeth, drilling you hard, so fast you can almost feel the ghost of a cramp along your calves but it’s too good, too deliriously delicious to stop. “Cum on my cock,” he breathes out, frantically. “Cum on my cock and tell me who fucked you first, who’s fucked you better.”

You are not entirely sure what he is talking about, but you do not care. All that matters, all that exists, is the pulsing ecstasy of his thick, hard cock fucking into your wet, tight pussy, the obscene squelch and slap of your union filling the office alongside his chest-deep grunts and your breathless moans.

“Oh, my god. Fuck… oh, _fuck_ , Stone, I’m gonna cum,” you whisper around a gasp, leaning back, hands on his knees as you slam yourself down onto him like a cheap porn star out for a paycheck. “Rub my cunt, baby, c’mon. Do it.”

Stone, good little boy that he is, does as he is told. The moment his thumb comes into contact with that bundle of nerves, you lose yourself to the explosive orgasm that rips through you, making you spasm around his cock as you shout out his name like a sacred prayer.

One, two, three more thrusts and he holds you down as his back arches, mouth open to let out a loud groan as he delivers one final jerk hard enough to nearly buck you off. “Holy _shit_ ,” he sighs out, clearly finished despite the absence of the slick a part of you had been yearning to be filled with. But even in the heat of it, neither of you can afford to be irresponsible.

You stay for a few more moments, with Stone nuzzling into your neck, leaving fleeting kisses in his wake as his beard tickles a satisfied sigh out of you. You touch him, his face, his neck, holding him close to mimic the feeling of romance despite knowing romance has nothing to do with what just transpired. You are both adults and you got what wanted—a good fuck and endless satisfaction at being the one who so thoroughly laid claim to the man everyone wants.

“I should get going,” Stone mumbles against your cheek, pressing a kiss to it as he slips out of you.

“Work sleeps for no one,” you say, standing up on wobbly legs with a laugh. “That was… wow.” You brace yourself against your desk, watching him tie off the condom before throwing it into the trash bin, his eyebrows furrowing. “The janitors can take care of it in the morning.”

Stone tucks himself away and zips up, straightening his suit with little care considering he’s done for the night. “People will talk.”

“They won’t know it was you.”

Gentleman that he is, Stone cleans the couch with disinfectant wipes while you sort yourself out, putting things back where they go behind the proper pieces of clothing. You don’t bother with your hair.

The two of you walk out of the office building against your better judgement, Stone’s hand at your back more to keep you balanced than out of some possessive display. He carries the suitcase with his free one, making small talk along the way to your car where he pauses to kiss your cheek once more.

“You can eat me out, but you won’t kiss me on the lips?” you say with a playful smirk, patting the coveted keycard to make sure it is still there before getting behind the wheel. 

Closing the door, you lower the window. Stone leans against it, caressing your chin with a knuckle. “Sorry, but that’s one thing that strictly belongs to him,” he says with an apologetic smile. It would seem silly, but the gleam in Stone’s eyes makes warmth blossom in your chest. That affection may not be intended for you, but there is something to be said about its depth and genuine loyalty. “I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“I’ll sleep soundly tonight; I can tell you that much.”

Stone chuckles, straightening up and smacking the hood of the car in a parting gesture. “Drive safe, Agent.”

“Don’t get that cute ass of yours fired,” you shoot back, watching him walk away with a hearty wave.

The drive to your apartment feels drawn out, with your thoughts miles away and your skin still tingling with remnants of shivering pleasure. You hope Stone keeps his promise of this not being a one night stand, and you double hope Robotnik adjusts those loose screws for long enough to screw you both into next year. Regardless, it is the most fun you have had in awhile, and you cannot wait to see what crazy conspiracies your co-workers will come up with.

Whatever they are will likely be nowhere near as wild as the ones hidden behind your prized key.

**Author's Note:**

> There might be a continuation to this which would feature Robotnik because that brat of an evil genius deserves to be sandwiched.


End file.
